Saint Joseph School

Oby walked from the lockers to the baseball field equipment bag slung over one shoulder, feeling the crunch of gravel beneath the metal of his cleats, and smiled as the clack clack sound resounded. He was early, very early, and he saw Coach Waters sitting in the dugout leaning against the concrete wall of the structure, peering through the chainlink at the field.

"I thought I was early, Coach." Antoine chided as he approached, opening the dugout gate on the low, padded, chainlink barricade that offered minimal protection against errant foulballs.

"I knew you'd be out here, DuBois, so I figured I'd beat you to it." Coach joked back. "I've got the fungo, and a bucket of balls. What say we start this new season?"

Oby smiled, and grabbed his glove out of his bag, dropping the bag on it's place on the bench. He slipped the glove on over the batting glove on his right hand with a satisfied grin and jogged out to his spot between second and third, settling as the coach took his place just up the first base line from home plate.

"Here you go, we'll knock the rust off." Coach grinned as he hit a lazy flyball, that Oby caught with an easy smack of ball on leather. He threw the ball back to the coach, who grabbed it on one bounce.

"I'm not THAT rusty, Coach. Hit something."

Coach Waters chuckled, and rested the bat, one handed, on his shoulder and tossed the ball up with his other hand. A loud crack as the ball met the fungo bat resounded, and Oby moved to his left, "up the middle", and speared the ball, and spun, tossing the ball in an arc to the coach. The duo continued the game for a bit, until Coach Waters called Oby in.

"Give it a rest for now, DuBois, you need to save something for when the rest of the team gets here."

Sam took another practice swing with her old, wooden Louisville Slugger before rolling it under her bed to be out of the way. It was well used and pretty beat up, but it reminded her of playing ball back home. Even if it never saw game play, it was good enough for practicing in the park with Ves and Artie and Angel and whoever else showed. She laughed, thinking back to the first time she’d seen Ves at the makeshift home plate, clutching the bat like she was going to club the hell out of something. And after a few short tries of swinging for the stands and only chopping the ball as far as the pitcher, she started to get the hang of it, and was belting some pretty good ones towards the outfield. Artie too. She recalled his first swing, the bat leaving his hands with enough force to hit her square on the arm up on the pitchers mound, near knocking her on her tail. She was especially glad they still had all their abilities, the tank gene helped shrug it right off, but she could tell, the Skulls had NOTHING on the guy when it came to swinging a bat. As soon as he got used to the weight/shape being a little different than the hilt of his sword, he was really doing a number on the ball. Of course, it was mostly slow pitches. Sam knew all the mechanics of pitching, but growing up, her focus was more on soccer. Baseball was a nice hobby, or something to play with the neighborhood kids on a summers day, but pitching would have required more practice than she was willing to spend on it. Still, she had given Eddie a baseball which she had Ves help trace her fingers on, showing him how to hold the ball for some simple pitches, the fast ball, curve ball, slider, that sort of thing. She had to laugh again at the “Bugs Bunny” routine he pulled when she asked him to pitch a few in for her- him levitating the ball just before it reached home plate, and her trying three times to hit it as he shifted it around. “Goof.” she muttered to no one. She grabbed her glove and Braves cap from her desk. Angel was doing really well too- it’d be good to see how she did with the coach’s “help”. As it was, when she connected? Hole-lee cow! Sam was real glad Snowy was there with his fast feet, otherwise she’d be making a trek to the sporting goods store to pick up a dozen or so more baseballs. Mana was getting the hang of catching, but it was hard to pick that up without having all the equipment on hand. If it fit him, that is, or maybe the school would have it specially made, she wasn’t sure.

She took one final look in the mirror, pushing her hair behind her ears as the cap sat atop her head, and popping a piece of square bubble gum in her mouth before heading out, her mitt tucked under her arm. She banged on Ves’s door, chuckling slightly as Ves balked about going to the first practice. Sam assured her that it’d be fun, practically pushing her down the hallway for emphasis, Ves muttering something about being voluntold, making Sam laugh harder. Eddie met the two right outside the dorm, stealthing in but not surprising either, both used to listening closely for the familiar hum. He carried the glove that she lent him and sported a Rockies cap. They tossed a baseball back and forth between them all the way to practice, causing Sam to once again smile. They were motley and ragtag enough to remind her of the great informal games back home, when trashcan lids served as bases, and the pitchers mound was usually more of a pit than anything. This was going to be a great season, she decided.